


Little did you know: Drabbles

by TavecIncertum



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood, Burns, Character Death, Child Abuse, Childhood Memories, Drabbles, Drama, Drug Use, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character(s), Neglect, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Torture, Sex Addiction, Sexual Content, Suicide, Torture, Trauma, Underage Sex, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TavecIncertum/pseuds/TavecIncertum
Summary: Drabbles and short clips of life from the characters of 'Little did you know'. Past experiences that may or may not be mentioned in the main story.Characters: Cainen, ElyleTopics: All.Warnings: Graphic violence, Sexual content.





	1. Scars - Cainen

**Author's Note:**

> http://i67.tinypic.com/30svuc4.jpg   
> For reference of the aftermath. This is something not yet mentioned in the main arc.   
> Disclaimer: I'm aware this would kill you. I still don't care. ;P

Hours. Hours had passed and at this point, Cainen didn't know just how long it had been. It felt like time slowed and without light or sound to tell him differently, he thought it had been days. His biological clock was off and with only one out of five senses to rely on, who knew what day it was. His mouth was dry and what little saliva collected in it was swallowed in a desperate attempt to moisten his throat. It burnt, it was stripped and he didn't think anymore sound would form. No matter the sensation that tried to pull noise from him. 

At least, that's what he thought. 

Pain. More pain than he thought he could bear and what he thought should kill him. Bile roared in his stomach and the milky liquid splattered on the floor when his muscles tensed. His body jerked against his will, violent spasms of his limbs and the muscles tensed with all of his strength. His very skin felt like it was ripping, the tendons tearing and surely his flesh was being peeled from the meat. 

His veins popped up through his skin and the stress on his body had to be enough to kill him. Strangled noises tore from his throat and the scent of burning flesh in the air nearly made him wretch again. His lungs ached and his heart skipped a beat from the currents of electricity that bolted through his body. The moment the battery was disconnected, he fell limp in his bindings and for the near dozenth time, he gagged. It was too much pain for his body to withstand and it was an immediate reaction. 

Tears had long worn vibrant paths down his face against his will and as he fought to fill his lungs, another snapping noise brought him to a hoarse howl. Agony, sheer agony in his voice that now refused to make noise. He'd used it all up when this first started, three hours ago. 

The black and charred skin was jagged from where the wires connected to his body, all the way to the base of his neck. It followed the branches of veins, bruised paths off the sides of the burnt flesh. His voice was long gone and he no longer had much more to reveal his torment. Still, the moment his muscles relaxed, he started to beg. “eas... pl.. se.. no... mor.. ple..” His body trembled and he didn't think it could get worse. 

The red and black terminals were connected to screws that were jutting out of his body. Their only purpose was to circulate electricity. The metal posts screwed into his flesh and muscle down by the base of his spine, lined up just so. From the inch long screws, only about an eighth of them showed, the rest buried deep into his tissue. The skin around them had given up, turning a gray and rather ashen color, the branches of death following up in a pattern of lightning bolts. 

He'd long lost the battle and now he didn't know how much more he could take. How much more could happen before something broke. Whether it be him, his mind or his body. He hoped it was quick and painless in comparison. His heart ached and he was hurt in more ways than one. All he wanted was to be told this was going to be over.. All he prayed for was relief or death, neither could come quick enough. 

The cackling of his father was heard in the darkness, an amused chuckle as his feet tried to purchase claim on the floor that they dangled above. Toes frantically trying to take the weight off his sore shoulders. He was being restrained by his wrists alone and suspended just within reach of his tip-toes. The arches of his feet cried out for a reprieve as he lost his footing and his arms replied with shooting pain. He'd been in one position for too long and every time that current ran through him, it heated the metal that kept him tied. 

The older man had made sure that there were enough grounding points in his body that the electricity stayed away from his heart and brain. No, instead it took the treacherous path up his arms and died just past his hands. Even though his heart received small shocks, just enough to make it stutter, that was all that he needed to terrify Cainen. 

More choking sobs of begging incoherence and suddenly Cainen's weight was dropped to the ground. He wailed out in resistance, the landing nothing near soft and intended to cause the screws to press further into his body. He stayed on his back, the cool floor seeming to aid the burns if only for a moment. He pushed himself onto his stomach, all his strength going to balancing on his tied hands as he tried to maneuver on the length of the short cable. 

He just wanted to see, see where he was and how much time had passed. He wanted to see if this was almost over if he could be loved again, if only for a moment.  
“-ease..pl—ea...se..” He recited. He felt like a worm on the ground, his eyes covered with something so tightly that his vision was white. His eyes hurt and his head throbbed from the pressure tied around it.   
“You know I hate it when you mumble, Cainen.” Asven ordered lowly, foot coming to push Cainen onto his side as he'd struggled to his hands and knees. 

A rough swallow and dry words tried again, this time a metallic taste washing over his taste buds. Either he'd damaged his throat or he'd bitten something in his mouth. Maybe he'd been gnawing on his cheek or tongue.   
“Pleas—se..” He stuttered.   
“Please what?” Asven asked lowly and the boy tried again.   
“Stop.. -ather.. s—top plea—se!” He pleaded and the man narrowed his eyes.  
“Your training continues tomorrow. This is enough for now.” The words were like he'd just been given the best present he could think of. Like winning the lottery, like being given a million dollars. 

The binding was torn away from his eyes and light flooded into them, bringing stinging tears to try and re-hydrate the drying orbs. Emerald was closed behind tight eyelids and with a numbed tug, the screws were pulled out. He couldn't feel it, not in comparison to the previous pain. His body found comfort on the ground and even though his hands were freed, they stayed together where they were. 

The room became dark, the presence leaving and as Cainen laid half on his side and half on his torso, he let his vision adjust to the area. His eyes slit open and the moment they did, tears couldn't be stopped. They fell to the floor and in his mind, he questioned why he'd been born. He couldn't seem to answer that question. 

There was no hope for moving from the spot he was in, no matter how badly the smell of blood, burnt skin, and vomit were repulsing him. He needed treatment on his wounds and badly before they set up for infection or he got gang-green or something. However, treatment would feel worse than the original trauma. He was on a strict no pain-control list. No matter the injury, the doctors knew not to give him a drop of pain relief. No numbing, no pills, no anesthesia. That was how it had been for a while now and his father claimed it was all in strength training. Building tolerance. Building an immunity to physical pain. 

As his eyes continued to form a puddle under his head, he stayed catatonic on the ground and merely let his lids hood. His body shook from cold and pain alike, the feelings running through his body causing his adrenaline to leave him wasted.   
“Momma..” He mumbled near silently, the words illegible to anyone but himself.   
“Please take me with you..” He pleaded, imagining the woman he'd never seen in his life, reaching out to comfort him. It was his only saving thought. Death would allow him to see his last chance at being loved and cared for. Something he wasn't going to find on earth, at least not this lifetime. 

He'd accepted it, it was okay. Or so he tried to tell himself. 

His thoughts were cut short as the doors opened in the room and before his eyes came familiar shoes. The doctor. It looked like he wasn't going to get his wish this time. It wasn't over. It never was. 

Cainen was picked up by the doctor and his assistants, being drug through the room and to a gurney. Once on the hard, mobile bed, he was wheeled through the building and hooked to various machines. Nope. Not today. Today wasn't the day he was going to be allowed to be loved. Today was another day he was mercilessly saved to be forced to face tomorrow. That was the harsh reality of life. A reality that was setting in like a bitter winter. 

If he was going to make it.. he had to become colder than the snow that was falling around him. He had to lose himself if he wanted to survive. 

Looking at the floor as he was being treated, his resolve started to steel. It wouldn't be long before he lost himself now. Not now that the ball was rolling. He knew what he needed to do and now all there was to do.. was do it. His teeth gritted, pain surging through his back as scalpels carefully etched away the dead cells. Anger started to replace fear, hatred taking over sadness. There was no choice. Not if he wanted to make it long enough to end the one that caused all of his sufferings.


	2. Cravings - Elyle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done prior to anything back when Elyle was just a lone character. However, this fits the story and is still part of his life. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. <3 >A< Poor baby Elyle..
> 
> -French-  
> Ca va? - How's it going?   
> Je Suis désolé - I am sorry.  
> Désolé - Sorry.

In the summer, the neighborhood always smelled so nice. Lilac was planted on nearly every corner and it seemed to light up the large and spacious homes.   
The houses ranged from modern to western ranch style and everything in between. The place was quiet, the sun hardly peeking above the horizon to tell the residents it was day break, but barely. 

Elyle slowly woke to pain in his head and a stomach full of acid. Nausea woke him and told him that he had about five minutes before he absolutely lost it. Thus, started the race. Mismatched eyes stayed closed as fists pulled back blankets and feet met the floor. This was going to be a hell of a time, however, it was only a few steps to the bathroom. 

Strength was put in concentrated amounts behind the efforts to stand and surely enough, he moved to his feet and took the first step. His balance was off but he stayed upright long enough to make the transition from carpet to tile. No sooner did he open his eyes and kick the door shut behind him, did he start the ten-minute stint of constant heaving. Until the half-digested alcohol was no longer in his stomach, he continued to make the morning worse and worse. 

The waves of cold down his spine finally subsided with his heaves and he came to the bathroom sink now. The loud sound of water flushing down the toilet made his eyes squint, it was just so damn loud. Indigo and gold slit open and stared into their reflection. It was bad. He looked bad. His eyes were reddened, his lips were pale and bruised on the bottom from teeth no doubt. The bruise formed two very closely spaced indents, the telltale sign. More rings of teeth indents were spread out across his throat and shoulders, some going as low as his abdomen and one as high as the shell of his ear. It must have been a good time. Too bad he didn't remember it. 

By the time he walked out of the bathroom, his bed partner was already sitting on the edge of the bed with a needle in hand. Sapphire and Citrine narrowed and his voice was the first to make noise in the room.   
“Put that shit away until I get out of here,” Elyle ordered, catching the other males attention.   
“Come on. You still haven't given this a try. Killer high. better than anything we've done yet.” The other tried, his persuasion failing rather miserably.   
“Fuck that, I said no.” 

After a few moments of searching, he pulled his boxers on and then rather quickly located his pants. The shirt was last and he was then collecting his things from the side table.   
“So is this it? You're leaving?” The male questioned and the youngers lips thinned into a line.   
“Yeah. I don't do anything serious. Just one night stands.” Elyle commented, taking a cigarette from a pack and soon catching the lighter that the other threw to him.   
“Fine but one question. It won't change anything that's already happened... but just how old are you?” Dark brown eyes tried to search the two toned ones but they couldn't manage to find anything. 

Tossing the lighter back to the other, Elyle pursed his lips a bit at the question and hesitated in thought before taking a drag of the cigarette. “Fifteen. So it's in your best interest to keep your mouth shut for both of our sake. As far as we both know. This never fucking happened. This was just one of your heroin induced dreams.” Clicking his tongue, the younger shot a faint grin before turning without hesitation and making way through the house. 

Just like that, he took pace through the yard and was gone with the cover of dawn. The neighbors were none the wiser and now it was just the few-mile trek back home. He didn't even know if he'd ever been back in that neighborhood before but it was all nice houses. Rich men and women, young and old. If he had his way... he'd be back there in someone's house again. Doing body shots of thousand dollar wines on the edge of a Jacuzzi. He could get used to that kind of life, rather quickly. 

What felt like hours went by and finally, he turned the corner into what looked like the slums of the city. Small houses, large and packed apartments and a few mobile homes were to be found down each street. Junk was in nearly every yard and broken down cars were parked here and there at will. 

His steps took him up to the front door of a white house with torn and battered shutters. The yard had trash piled here and there and two broken down cars were parked on the short lawn. Everything was worse for wear. 

Pushing a shoulder into the door, he walked in and was immediately greeted with the sounds of moans and gasps coming from one of the bedrooms. Great, it was one of those days again. He made way to the fridge and opened it to get out a carton of milk. He needed something to sooth his stomach and at least his parents were good at keeping things for hang-overs in the house. Taking a glass from the cabinet, he rolled his eyes over it being the last clean one before he filled it up. 

After the glass of milk and later, a few pieces of toast, the bedroom door cracked open and Elyle's attention went to a staggering woman. She was in a draping tee shirt and a thong that was ripped at the side seams, sadly that was it. Coming to the fridge, she looked towards Elyle while getting out a bottle of chilling alcohol.   
“Ca Va?” He questioned and she shrugged.   
“Have you seen your father? He said he'd be home three hours ago.” She slurred, leaning a hand on the table. “He has to take you to those damned lesbians..” 

Elyle narrowed his eyes and raised a shoulder.  
“I can take myself. It's just a bus ticket across the city.” It didn't take much persuasion.   
“Fine get out of here. come back whenever the time is due so we don't get the cops knocking down our door.” She retorted, waving a hand while the raven got up to get a few things around. He tried his best to ignore the slough of curses from under her breath and all the times she cursed having him. He really just wanted to go home. 

The moment he zipped his bag closed with what few things he trusted to bring over inside. The front door opened angrily and in stepped a tall and rather well-built male. Before long, his mother's name was being shouted through the house and he made way towards the front door. He tried to block out the noise, the curses, and the screaming voices. Nothing seemed to close his ears well enough as he rushed out the door as a lamp came flying down the hall. It shattered on the door behind him and he looked a little bewildered. He was free, if only for the moment. 

The trek started as it normally did, he had no intentions or money for a bus. He had to do exactly what others did. Walk or ride something, for Elyle it was a rather beat-up skateboard. The journey was slow and took a good hour but at last, he was getting to more populated streets. Families were just now getting up for school and work, the large span of suburbs lighting up slowly by slowly. A few more reps and he sailed into a driveway, right about the time that the garage door opened and rear lights of a nice car lit up. 

The lights turned off as soon as Elyle came into view however and the door opened rather quickly. “Elyle! Don't tell me you just rode your skateboard again! What am I going to do with you..” The woman started, a fond smile coming to her lips.   
“Where are you going, mom?” He asked, kicking the rim of his board and causing it to roll into the garage and stop just a ways from a trash can.   
“I was just going to run to the coffee shop uptown, Mimi wants something sweet and we're out of coffee so as good a time as ever. Go inside and take a shower..” She spoke, coming to his side and lifting his head with her fingertips. He was still so short but she knew his time would come. 

Elyle felt her gaze sweeping him and when her brows furrowed, he looked up at her.  
“Je Suis désolé..” As the apology came out, her eyes softened and lacked the disappointment he expected.   
“I just want you to be safe. Your mother and I wouldn't be able to make it without you Elyle.” She chided and he instantly felt guilty. He felt like she shouldn't see the bites and bruises that were peppered from his throat, down. As she spoke, he came to grab the collar of his shirt and pull it taught and high. He didn't want her looking. She never spoke ill of his habits except to express worry. However, she knew that was a coping method and as much as it terrified her.. she wasn't his real parent. She didn't feel like she had the place to tell him to stop. 

“I'm going to go in and talk to mom. Then probably hop in the shower. Will you get me a latte and some bagels?” He asked and she nodded with a smile and an affectionate ruffle of his hair.   
“Go get cleaned up and we'll all have breakfast when I get back.” Like that, she was into her car and he took cautious steps into the house. He didn't have to walk on eggshells here, but Mimi wasn't going to be happy about how he looked. 

The moment that the petite Japanese woman turned around, her face fell and she hurried to his side. “Elyle. You look awful what have you been doing all night?” At this, he fell silent and she pulled on the v-neck of his tee-shirt. The longer she looked, the more blood ran from her face. She looked pale and distraught at that.   
“Elyle why..”   
“Don't worry about it Ma'ma..” He replied, his bag being settled on the counter of the kitchen. He could only watch her brows knit closer and closer together. 

Silence thinned between them as she made way to the fridge to take out a carton of orange juice, a small shake getting it ready to pour. She seemed to float around the kitchen for a moment as he leaned against the island.   
“Are you doing this safely Elyle?” She asked, setting a glass of orange juice and two aspirin on the surface beside him. He turned to pick up the tablets and popped them back with the aid of the juice and once the glass was empty, it was returned to the sink.   
“Yes, Ma'ma...”   
Was he? He couldn't remember. He didn't feel all that disgusting this morning so he could only assume. 

She turned to face him and reached out to take his hand, lacing their fingers together.   
“I love you Elyle. If you're doing all this because you don't feel loved. That's not the case.” Her eyes started to tear up and her other hand came to cover their joined ones.  
“I'm sorry they don't love you. But I couldn't thank them enough for having you. I'm sorry you had to suffer before we could get you and I'm sorry you're suffering now..” At this, she moved to pull him into her arms and hug him tightly.   
He was the one this time to get all choked up. “Jes suis désolé.. désolé désolé..” 

It took a few long moments before the tears subsided and finally, his mother's hands were cupping his face; thumbs wiping at the trails to dry them up.   
“My precious boy..” She whispered and he couldn't help but smile.   
“I'm gonna go take a shower before mom gets back..” He mumbled and she nodded.   
“Hurry up, she'll be home soon.” Just like that, he picked up his bag and hurried up the stairs, turning into his room and throwing the item on his bed. He started stripping immediately and was walking through to his bathroom before he stopped to look in the mirror again. 

He really was a shameful child. No other kid in their right minds would disrespect their parents like this. If he really loved them, he'd stop forcing them to see the repercussions of his habits. Why was it that he did what he did? The drugs? The fights, the sex, the theft? Why did he feel the need to go and do these things? He tried to think about it and the answer made him feel sick. 

It really was all he knew until just a few years back. He grew up in the fray, around the violence and the drinking. The cheating, the lying, and the stealing. Hell, he'd just come home for the first time in three days and while getting out of bed with a stranger.. his mother asked where her husband was. He was probably doing meth with some prostitute as payment for her service. That was the dark reality of it all. He felt safer in a strangers bed than in his own. His thoughts hurt him more than the one night stands. 

At least when he woke up in a strangers house.. he wasn't immediately reminded of how his life was. How he'd go home to his mothers.. be treated like a human for six weeks and right when he'd start to get used to it. That was when it happened. That was when it always happened. Two weeks, the court ordered or his mothers lose their custody. He has to stay with them. And every six weeks. He does just that. It's a small price to pay for at least getting six weeks of normality. Six weeks of love and care and affection. Six weeks of days that he didn't have to search for love in bars he was far too young to be even sneaking into. 

It took a few moments to register the fact that he'd already washed his hair and his body. Now he was just staring off into the distance, standing under the spray of hot water. It felt good. It felt like home. No sooner did he shut off the water, he heard a vehicle pull into the driveway and then shut down. His mother was home and by the time he got dressed, she'd already be warming up the pastries and brewing the coffee. 

No, it really wasn't that bad. He had to be thankful for what he had now. He could still be living with his biological parents 24/7. Two weeks was nothing. That's all he had to remind himself of. Hopefully, it wouldn't change again. 

Tired steps were taken down the stairs once basketball shorts and a tee shirt were put on, their trek going to the kitchen. As he came up to the island, he pulled out a stool and sat behind the bar section, looking towards his mothers standing aside one another. Mimi was washing a few stray dishes and her shoulder was nestled up to her slightly taller wife's shoulder. Something was whispered and a kiss was placed to the shorter woman's temple before movements were made to open the microwave. 

As a steaming pastry was set in front of him along with an iced latte from the shop, a smile settled on his mother's lips. “Good morning Elyle. Welcome home.” 

“Good morning Ma'ma. Mimi. It's good to be home.”


	3. The first Kill - Cainen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a drabble about Cainen's reaction to the first person he killed in cold blood.   
> Coping with shutting himself down and becoming a ruthless killer, this is a stepping stone to who Cainen is presently in Little Did you Know. 
> 
> Cainen is a few months over 17 in this drabble.

Blood.   
Blood, it was everywhere.   
It was all he could remember.

Cainen sat with his back to the wall of the smooth tile bathroom. His mind was reeling and the entire room had soaked in the aroma of different illegalities. Emerald eyes strained to open and the moment they did, all he could see was red. The sight made his stomach turn and in an instant, his momentum forwards sent him towards the toilet. His shoulders shook and veins pressed up under his skin from the sudden spasms. Acid burnt his throat and the taste of alcohol was overpowering, fresh liquor poured into an empty system. 

As the heaves subsided, his eyes slit open and he felt the tears stinging his eyes. It was agony, this feeling of guilt. That's all there was. Guilt. 

His eyes rolled back into his head for a moment as his backside collided with the floor once more. As he sat back, he reached out and grabbed the neck of a bottle of whiskey. Bringing it to trembling lips, he cleared his pallet with a few drinks, soon picking up the notion to finish the bottle. He swayed, arm raising as he slammed the glass into the porcelain fixture. A shatter rang out and glass split in a thousand different directions, the corners of the teen's mouth cocking in a grin. He wasn't right. He wouldn't be right for the rest of his life, he'd accepted it. 

Shifting to his hands and knees, he did his best to stand and grab the sink. Once he was stable, his arm released the basin to throw open the medicine cabinet. Taking out bottles, he started tossing them onto the floor. Once they were in a pile, he let his knees give and he plopped to the ground He didn't even seem to notice, crawling across glass to get to the pills that he'd retrieved. 

It was too much, he realized that half way into prying open the first bottle. Pouring the entire bottle into his mouth, he reached over to a new fifth and cracked the top. After swallowing that round, it was to the next. Surely everything in the cabinet would kill him. There was enough sedatives, methamphetamines, narcotics and tranquilizers to make a couple hundred grand. Surely it was enough. 

After the handful of bottles were emptied, Cainen shifted to the side of the tub. He reached to pick up the metal tube, that happened to be lying there amid blood and fine powder. A hard line later, blood filled his senses once more and warmth dripped down the front of his face. 

His body crashed back into the corner of the tub and wall, head spinning and grip spilling the alcohol he'd been drinking. It was too much. Curses hit the air in disoriented slurs and the more he tried to move, the worse it kicked in. 

I don't want to die.

As his head swam and half-digested pills poured to the floor, he heard the door bust open in his room. Footsteps were rushing, his vision was spotting.   
Dear God, don't let them save me.

Suited men rushed the floor and rough hands grabbed him. Pulling him around and with the lift into arms, he was carried for a short distance. His back hit a gurney and soon velcro strapped down his semi-thrashing form. 

More slurred screaming, anger, violence. 

Don't let them fucking save me!

His system was failing, as the light behind his eyes started to fade, his vision darkened. 

Forgive me. 

He couldn't say regret was the last thing on his mind as he lost consciousness. No. He'd never say it was regret for trying the easy way. Not when he'd learned how hard things could get. How low someone could feel and how much someone could take before they broke. 

– –

You're not forgiven. 

The fog of limbo was surprisingly calm. The soft white noise and static. It was a lot better than Cainen had thought and he could only assume. Maybe he wasn't evil enough to go to hell. Little did he know, he was wrong. 

Emerald eyes slit open and as the haze cleared from them, the ache of his body was evident. His abdomen ached and his entire body felt like it wasn't attached anymore. He himself felt detached. As he looked up at ceiling tiles, he didn't recall why he was where he was. A soft beeping in the background, a quiet drip. The soft and inaudible whispers of people rooms away. 

The tube supplying oxygen to him was causing his nose to burn. The straight supply not aiding the sting of his busted capillaries. He tried to recall, had he gotten in a fight? Had he-

His eyes immediately watered with regret. The tears spilled without his consent and he nearly felt like screaming. The machines sensed his distress and alarms rang off as his blood pressure rose. His heart accelerated, inhales doubled. 

Forgiveness isn't something you can have.


End file.
